Turning Torn
by Dboba
Summary: In this BrBa Prequel a Philadelphia beat cop who turns from a law enforcing expert to a crime-ridden henchman. After realizing the wrinkles and white hair a skilled and tough officer turns from a renowned hero to something beyond recognition. This is the story of Mike Ehrmantraut. OC Heavy. Rated for violence, minor language and drug references.
1. Prologue

**Hello and welcome all, thanks for clicking on my story! I'm really excited to unveil this which hopefully will become future masterpiece. I've been really working the first chapter and planning out the entire story but I decided to take a break and write this prologue as it'll help for the story. This story is obviously OC heavy considering it takes place far before the canon of Breaking Bad.**

**Basically "Turning Torn" is the story of Mike Ehrmantrauts transformation just as "Breaking Bad" is Walt's transformation. I'm going to try and write it to where one chapter equals one shows worth of story and hopefully one day it'll lead all the way back to that first time we meet Mike after Jane dies from her OD. The good news is you don't really need to be a fan of Breaking Bad to enjoy this story.**

**This is rated T now for violence, drug references, and some minor language.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy.**

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**TURNING TORN - The story of Mike Ehrmantraut  
Prologue**

Is he the right guy?

After doing all this research on him it doesn't seem bright but it might be the best option. With his experience being a beat cop for the Philadelphia Police Department maybe he knows more than most men do. The few other guys I've hired for this situation weren't nearly as experienced in the field.

Ronald Frescott, my first gun for hire, did a pretty good job at what he did. He cleaned up any situation that would get us caught or ruin business, but he didn't have much experience going in which probably cost him. He wasn't too stealthy and had a real itchy trigger finger. I figured he'd be a good guy to get on the inside being that he had dealt in organized crime before, but I guess that doesn't mean you know what you're doing.

While cleaning up after he'd completed a hit he was seen fleeing the scene by neighbors. They identified him and he got put away. Serving life was a damn shame for an overall decent guy for the job. Of course I couldn't keep him in jail because he knew way too much about me. I ended up having to take him out Ordell Robbie style. I bailed the guy out and then … "took care of him". I don't fool around when it comes to liabilities. I was growing close to the guy, I guess, but I knew I could have better, and better is needed to run an operation such as mine.

Jimmy Conroy was another gun for hire I had. He was a bit of a prick if I had to put it bluntly. He was always walking around emitting arrogance. He never really had a way of talking to people either. He was rude, tough, and punishing. I know what you're thinking, that sounds like the perfect type of person for the job of taking care of illegal matters such as investigating and killing people, but it's not. Guys like him have a short life span. What happened to Jimmy was very usual for loudmouthed bastards like him.

He got too rough one night at a bar and got into a fight that ended up taking a turn for the worst. He was a mean drunk which you could expect from his not so stellar personality. Ended up cutting a man's throat with a pool stick, and then also got life in prison for murder. Sadly his fate was the same as Ronald's.

Those two were polar opposites of this new guy in quite a few different ways, which is great. Those two had been in organized crime before and had already been in the system for whatever. This new guy I was thinking of hiring is different. With him, if I can trust him, it would seem as if I'd never get caught and neither would he. He'd never be seen or get into an alcohol induced bar fight. Honestly I couldn't really see this guy being a problem for me at all except for his previous endeavor as a cop. I don't really even hate cops like most of the drug dealers do. I try to fly under the radar as all people who want to be successful in this line of work should.

Being an ex-cop had its advantages however. For one major thing he would fly under the radar. He'd never been in legal trouble for anything before and that was the most advantageous reception. He's sly about his movements and has actual training with firearms. He's meticulous and likes to think things out before he does them. He's clearly very intelligent and quite normal, nothing wrong with the guy. He doesn't sound like a snitch the way he's talking, but is that a chance I'm willing to take?

He is a family man however which bodes well for me. He has a wife and a daughter which is actually quite surprising for a guy in this line of work. You usually tend to see the lone wolf self centered egotists live this life, but not this guy.

The wife's name is Debra, early to mid forties, seems quite average. She works nights which are good because that's likely when I'll need this guy the most should he come work for me. I don't think she'll be of any concern as long as he keeps his new employment on the DL. His daughter, Jennifer, probably won't be of concern either. She isn't to the age where she would really do anything to impact the operation. She's only a junior in high school and shouldn't be informed of me either.

He has this partner at the police station that he's buddies with that really worries me. He hangs out with him, sees him all the time, and it's quite not what I want. Hopefully after my guy retires from PD that'll be a thing of the past. His name is Rick Ramsay. He's a Police officer, husband, father, and "good guy". Hopefully he's not too good.

I can't do this; it's too hard of a decision. My whole life is at stake.

Wait. I think I may have made up my mind. If he was a snitch he would've already known about me and he'd had enough evidence to put me away by now. But there is also the element of how this guy will act. He seems cool as a damn cucumber but how do I know what he'll do on an actual job?

I don't know if this guy has gone crazy or something too. I mean what a tale. Cop turned PI hit man? That doesn't seem like too much of a normal occurrence. Once you're in with the good guys you usually stay there. This is some real Star Wars type a' shit right here. Am I dealing with Darth Vader?

Ugh. I'm gonna have to read more into this… It's just too risky. I just hope this guy isn't a danger to me or this operation.

Should I really hire Mike Ehrmantraut?

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**_Ahhh, short and sweet. Hopefully you enjoyed. The chapters will be much longer than this but also a lot more in depth and enjoyable. Please drop a review, favorite, and look out for chapter one.  
_**


	2. Chapter I - Drug Bust

**Hello again. I'd like to first off say that I'm sorry, this chapter was intended to be a bit longer and have an ending with a big cliffhanger. I've been a bit limited with my computer however, it's been acting up and I haven't been able to write as much so I've decided to post what I have so far. I'm quite excited about this story and I hope many of you will read. This is unedited so have mercy. I'll check it over when I can get on a better computer.**

**If there are any errors please let me know. Please favorite, follow, and review also. I'd appreciate it greatly.**

**Enjoy!**

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**TURNING TORN - The story of Mike Ehrmantraut  
Chapter I - Drug Bust  
**

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**May 27****th****, 1994 – Two weeks before Mike's half measure**

Six o'clock. The alarm seemed to go off earlier and earlier each morning. The policemen's wife, Debra, rolled over and tapped her husband on the shoulder as she lay barely half awake.

"Honey, wake up" she said lightly, clapping her lips together ever so gently trying to return back to her slumber. Her husband didn't budge. She tapped him harder now, frustrated that this had been becoming a bit of a daily routine for her. "Come on Mike, it's almost seven."

Mike flung himself up into a seated position off the side of the bed and looked down on his nightstand at the clock. He only had his eyes half open but he still managed to read the big bright red "6:00" shining clear as day on his alarm clock.

"Are you crazy? It's only six!" Mike beamed back at his wife wanting an explanation for her lie. She had rolled back over, turned away from him as she was when she woke up. He couldn't see her face through her messy long brown hair that he'd always loved, not so much in this particular instance.

She moaned shallowly. "Got you up, didn't it?" She smiled ever so slightly as she closed her eyes, not moving to look at him.

He rolled his eyes. She was quite the problem solver. Every time she had a problem she found a way to fix it, it was one of the traits Mike loved about her. In this moment however he felt a bit more annoyed than loving.

He slid his slippers on slyly, embedding them under his blue and black plaid pajama bottoms, and propelled himself to his feet. He yawned and stretched out his arms to his side. He walked out of the bedroom and into the hallway which contained two other doors, one on the right and one on the left, both about midway down a twenty foot long hallway. On the left was his daughter's room and the right was his home gym. The master bedroom was at the very end of the hall across from the stairs.

He went straight down the hallway and down the stairs which lead into the family room. He stepped in where he had every morning since he became a police officer. Mike made a beeline to the coffee maker which is what saved him something he hated, the atrocity known to him as "morning". The coffee pot was Mike's savior and he loved it.

After brewing a cup of coffee he walked out onto the front porch and grabbed the paper from his blue and black welcome mat. He turned around with a smile reentering the kitchen, sat down, and began reading his paper.

This wasn't an important moment of Mike's day, actually it might have been the least important, but it was his favorite. That exact moment every morning as soon as he sat down. He loved the quiet. The sounds of birds chirping outside his window, the slight hum of the refrigerator, the sound the newspaper made when he turned to a new section, it was Mike's oasis.

He loved his family extraordinarily, but Mike was more of a singular personality in his own right. He tended to keep to himself, shut people out, and say as little as possible. A strong believer in a powerful quote by Abe Lincoln, "better to remain silent and be thought a fool than to speak and remove all doubt", Mike chose to speak sparingly. He liked the company of other people but he loved occasions he could mark as his own.

At six-thirty, he finished the paper and trotted up the stairs and changed into some shorts and a t-shirt. His wife was still asleep as usual for this time of day. Mike looked over at her as he was changing and his face of little expression started to curve. She looked so peaceful lying there, dreaming away. God he loved her.

After changing he walked out his doorway for the second time. This time instead of going straight and down the stairs he turned right and entered the Ehrmantraut's home gym. It was a large white room (with walls covered in mirrors) with carpet floors, most of which covered with foam puzzle pieces or mats for cushioning. Big grey and black workout equipment showered the room, and the mirrors made it look like there were even more than there were.

Mike put a lot of work into what his daughter called "the buff-up room", but it sure wasn't for nothing. This room was a major part of Mike's life. It was what kept his body and mind in top physical shape so he could do his job well – in fact, better than most. He was a superb officer. Back in his prime he was the one who could do anything for the force, however with age comes limitations.

The treadmill was one of Mike's favorite pieces of equipment and he used it every single dawn. He'd wake up with a routine. He'd have breakfast while reading the paper, and then move on to the treadmill, just as he did this morning. Sprinting and sprinting he went in the warm upstairs room, always trying to keep up the pace he'd set for himself the previous day.

After the run, Mike looked down and saw "4 miles" written on the screen. Mike put his head down in shame as yesterday's was 4.2 miles, the day before that was 4.3. He didn't understand why his efforts weren't up to par. After all, he did the same thing every day so why wouldn't he be getting better?

That's what made him feel ashamed. Earlier in his tenure as a cop he would increase his distance every day. But now Mike was getting to the point in his life where he was past his prime, and he was starting to realize it. He quickly punched the machine as he tried to catch his breath in anger and left the room to which he ran into his daughter in the hallway.

"Dad," his half asleep daughter sighed as she looked at him with one eye open and the other hidden behind her hand. "You forgot to wake me up for school before your run. Third time this week… And it's Wednesday."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry sweetheart but there's just a lot on my plate lately. Besides, you're a junior in high school now, you should be waking _yourself _up for school," Mike divulged with his head tilted downward at his not-so-little princess. He'd just realized for the first time she was as tall as him. Where had the time gone?

She rolled her eyes and slumped past him. Jennifer wasn't a morning person like her father. There used to be a time when she would just wake up and immediately run into her parents' room, dive on the bed and wake them up. She'd then lie in between them and watch TV cuddled up against them with her little footy pajamas on. Jennifer didn't really reminisce about these elementary times but Mike sure as hell did. His little girl was growing up and he couldn't believe it.

She trotted down the stairs and straight to the fridge – as teenagers usually do – and grabbed breakfast. She yawned nonchalantly and opened the fridge, grabbing a carton of chocolate milk, her favorite drink, and set it on the counter. She then stepped towards the pantry and grabbed a box of cereal.

It was typical, but Mike watched with intent and a smile. For some reason he was just really emotional today. He loved his family so much but he couldn't fathom how fast things were changing. He didn't like change.

He took a few steps back from the top of the stairs and swiftly pivoted into the bedroom where he was met by his wife trying to leave the room.

"Gosh!" His wife exclaimed as the couple almost collided in the doorway. "You scared me!" She said sensually as she placed her arms on Mike's chest. Her face moving closer to his as he smiled even wider, he moved in and kissed her red plump lips.

"Good morning darling," Mike said with a slight whisper. "How was your sleep?"

"Really weird actually, I had a bad dream," she replied as Mike clamped his lips together in thought.

"Really? About what?" Mike curiously asked.

"I'll have to tell you later it's a long story, don't you have to be to work soon?" Debra replied.

"I still have about a half an hour, when is Jenn supposed to be at school?" Mike asked so he could sync it up with his schedule.

"I'm driving myself today!" Jennifer yelled from downstairs in the kitchen. Eavesdropping on her parents conversations – especially when they involved her – was Jennifer's specialty. Mike narrowed his eyes at Deb.

"I think she's ready, after all she has had her license for around a week now," Debra explained.

"Okay…" It took a second to register in Mike's head. His little girl was now _driving _to school. He couldn't believe it. He always loved the conversations with her in the mornings as he took her to school. Besides, it was only a few blocks over from the police station. "…So I guess she'll be taking your car then."

"Yeah, I know."

"You're gonna be without a car all day and I know how you love to go see your friends," Mike said with a smirk.

"She'll live," Jennifer hollered back up the steps.

Mike shook his head slightly with a little giggle.

"Well alright then. It just amazes me that you can operate a vehicle but you can't set a simple alarm for yourself," Mike jabbed easily.

"Very funny."

Mike glared at Debra, smirking once more.

"She'll be fine," Debra said. "Now go get ready for work, you can leave earlier now since you don't have to take her."

Mike passed his wife and into the bedroom and began to undress from his gym clothes.

* * *

Patiently he sat in the squad car on his lonesome residing the passenger seat. Waiting was a big part of the job, catching criminals was crafty work and if you couldn't be patient you might as well forget it. He tapped his fingers feverishly on the dash above the glove box, humming "My Sharona" by The Knack.

He was eyeing a house down the street to see who was coming and going, trying to catch a caper with a usual problem in the city of Philadelphia, at least to his knowledge. Drug dealers had a particular way about them, usually meticulous with each step if they were the smarter ones. This guy wasn't major league or anything, just suspected of being a small time marijuana dealer, but you could never be too sure.

Mike had come to familiarize himself with the neighborhood he'd been patrolling and this house did seem a tad suspicious. People seemed to always be coming or going at random times throughout the day, this was just one of the times the house owner had gone.

Awaiting a potential bust wasn't the only thing Mike had to be patient for however. His partner, Rick Ramsay, was out investigating the perimeter of the vacant house. Mike had been Richard's partner and best buddy for coming up on ten years now, and they were almost like family. The two were nearly inseparable although they differed in quite a few ways. Rick was a taller, more slender man with a narrow face and a full head of spiked up dirty blond hair. He was a bit more enthusiastic than Mike about most things as Mike had a tendency to be more or less nonchalant. A loss of hair was coming into play for Mike now also as he was now reaching what most would consider being "old". He didn't view himself as such however, he felt like he was still twenty one on the inside although he was nearly thirty years older.

The younger man stepped out from behind the house now as he began walking down the side yard towards the street to which he would continue over to Ehrmantraut. Mike let out a sigh as he knew his partner should have been more careful with the matter, someone could have pulled up and spotted him and suddenly they'd have a big scene in the making. His partner began to put a little pep in his step which flustered Mike a bit more, maybe he'd seen something. Rick approached the Vehicle and opened the door, sliding in with great familiarity to the vehicle.

"Nothing," rifled Rick as he broke the news to his buddy. Mike sighed once more; he thought they had him this time. "Got a look in the basement windows though, no lab, that's good I suppose."

"Yeah, good for society but not for our situation," Mike replied continually peering across the neighborhood. "We're gonna get this dirt-bag sooner or later, it's just a matter of when and how"

"What's our next move Mikey?" Rick asked with a smile. That was the nickname for Mike, and he didn't think much of it. It actually made him feel a bit more youthful. He also had a nickname for Rick, which was "Rams", short for Ramsay.

"You know what our course of action is ya dingbat," Mike gave a light punch to Ramsay. He reached over into the center console and grabbed his drink he'd been sitting with for a while which was nearly half gone.

"I know, I know. I just hate waiting man, ya know? Gets a bit boring. Good thing I brought somethin' to read or this would just be torture," the blonde retorted as he reached between the seats for a magazine.

Mike understood where Rick was coming from, he'd felt the same way a handful of years back. He'd grown to appreciate the waiting around and had developed stamina of patience over the years. He was the one who'd usually be on the lookout do to this as Ramsay was often either reading, reviewing files, playing some type of game, or anything else.

"So you catch the Eagles game last night?" Rick shot over to his partner as he tried to stir up some conversation. He was pretty good at that and knew exactly what Mike did and didn't like to talk about.

"Yeah, tough loss. Jenn and I caught the second half."

"Deb wasn't watching?"

"Nah, she went to bed early, had a rough day yesterday."

"Ah," Rick nodded.

"Yeah, how you and Deb doin'?" Mike asked as he tried to keep the conversation alive. He kept eyeing the house as Rick flipped through the pages of his magazine.

"Pretty good bro, pretty good. We should have you guys over for dinner sometime, it's been a while," Rick insisted trying to get his buddy excited for something and possibly distract him a bit from the job.

"What're you talkin' about 'been a while?' We all had dinner last week at our place," Mike didn't move from his watch.

"I know, I meant it's been a while since you guys have been over. We just got the new carpeting down and everything, come on, it'll be fun," Rick insisted once more as he turned another page.

"Alright. If it'll keep you quite I guess I'm in," the older man said with a smirk. He'd honestly love to go see Rick and his wife once more.

Mike turned and looked at the house once more and raised his eyebrows. The garage door was slowly being raised, most likely electronically from a car. As it rolled up Mike began to grow even more suspicious.

"Hey, Hey!" Mike tapped his partner on the shoulder rapidly and then pointed at the garage. Rams looked up and squinted, trying to get a grasp. "There he is," Mike said almost enthusiastically as he saw a black Cadillac roll into the driveway of the suspect.

"We gonna roll on it?" Rick questioned as he tried to gather strategy for the bust.

"He's heading inside, we might as well. Not sure if we should drive the car up, might cause some suspicion which could ruin the whole thing. Let's go on foot," Mike ordered out to his younger half, ready to get a move on the job.

"What are we gonna do just go up to the door and knock?" Rams burst out sarcastically, thinking on his own terms. "Nah, we should just wait until he comes back out and gets back in his vehicle, and then we'll move on it."

"What makes you think he's comin' out soon, sergeant super?" Mike asked extremely sarcastically, poking fun at his seeming to know it all pal.

"If I know drug dealers like I think I know drug dealers, then he's just going to be stopping in to get something and then he'll be on his way. Just look at the way he parked, crooked. If he was staying he would've taken the time to park correctly. Also, he left the garage door open when he went inside," Rick explained as he eyed the house now. Mike was a bit bamboozled.

"Ya know, you catch a lot more than I think you do. I always thought a part of you actually did your damn job instead of reading up on the latest hairstyles," Mike said with a grin and a slight chuckle as he gave a light tap to the arm of his partner.

"Very funny. Let's just wait and see," he now focused in on the house and couldn't care less about what he was reading.

At that very moment they saw the man return out of the garage and walk back over to his vehicle, this time carrying a backpack. The two cops looked at each other and both knew this was their chance. They both exited the squad car swiftly and began to sprint after the suspect before he could get away.

The man was just getting in when the two got there. He hadn't seen them yet but Mike and Rick were nearing him at a rapid pace.

"Excuse me sir, can we have a word," Mike yelled as he started to lose his breath, slowing as he got to the car. The man looked up at the two uniformed men and got the look of a deer in headlights. He jumped out of the open driver's seat door and began running down the street.

Mike immediately took off after him and Rick turned back running the same direction he and Mike had already come. The man was tall and thin making him very agile and fast. Mike was getting the feeling this guy could be a real competitor. Mike continually paced after him as he now switched things up, running off the street and down the side yard of a house. The suspect then tried to throw his backpack away from the two of them, but it was decently heavy so it didn't make it far.

"Stop," yelped Mike as he watched the bad guy disregard him, hopping up over a fence and kept going to which Mike did the same. Ehrmantraut was probably 20-25 feet behind him and was losing fuel. The suspect turned to look back as Mike reached deep in the tank and kept spurring on after the now very suspicious man, which was the wrong move.

The suspect smacked his face off of a tree branch in the yard he had hopped into which slowed him down just enough for Mike to get close to within an arms distance. The man managed to race on a bit further out onto the sidewalk a street over from where they'd started. As the criminal got towards the road he saw a police car pull over to him against the curb at which he was running – which had Officer Rick Ramsay comfortably seated in the driver's seat once again – causing him to stop in panic. Mike then dove into the man, knocking the both of them to the pavement. He grasped the suspect's arms behind his back as Rick ran over from the police car.

Rick pulled his handcuffs from his utility belt and slapped them swiftly on the wrists of their foe in veteran-like fashion. Rick began to read him his Miranda rights as Ehrmantraut got up and strolled casually over to the dropped backpack whilst recovered his breath. He unzipped the main compartment and found what he'd thought he'd find – and a lot more. Two small baggies of marijuana, three pill bottles, and a huge zip locked bag of what looked to be cocaine.

Mike shot off a quick smirk and looked over at his partner who was now getting the alleged drug dealer to his feet. Rick recognized that look. They did it.

* * *

The police car pulled up to the house, Rick driving, Mike in the passenger seat, and their reluctant criminal in the back.

"Now you listen to me tool-bag. We do this one way or another, the easy way or the hard way," Mike looked over his shoulder not entirely at the runaway. "With what you got here in this bag coming out of that house we're gonna search it. You can either let me and my partner here in, or you can let us go downtown to get a warrant. Up to you, either way the house is getting searched. What'll it be, Scarface?"

The man in the backseat drooped his head down submissively. "Go ahead," he said softly, basically admitting defeat. Mike and Rick looked at each other with glee – they rarely got to do things to this extent. Both policemen got out of the vehicle and Mike started towards the house while Rick looked back at the criminal, handcuffed and locked in the squad car.

"Don't go anywhere," Rick chuckled as he turned to follow Ehrmantraut into the house.

The two walked up to the garage and pulled it open from the ground. They both took a step inside, looking around sporadically. They didn't see anything there, but they were determined to find something. They stepped up to the door to the house, both drawing their weapons for good measure.

Rams turned the knob to find that it was unlocked and swiftly pushed the door in. The two stepped into the house, which seemed to be empty both of people and objects. The walls were white and bare with not much in the rooms except for a couch. The two both narrowed their eyebrows at this as they looked to each other in confusion. They walked to the end of the light room into a hallway and noticed a door at the end of a hallway. They walked to the end of the hallway slowly with their firearms drawn and prepared to bust into the room. They got up against the door and Mike ducked down and placed his hand on the doorknob. Rams stood a few feet back as Mike looked up at him. "One… Two… THREE!" He whispered a bit loudly.

Mike pushed the door in as Rick charged into the room gun pointed towards the back wall. It would turn out to just be a bathroom, to which both men walked back into the hallway. They walked down the short hallway again and out into the open room. They looked across to where they'd come in and then a bit to the left and spotted another door. They both ran to that door proceeding with the same protocol and opened it to which they saw stairs presumably to a basement.

The two began to step down the stairs slowly, trying to listen in to anyone moving or talking in the basement.

"Police! Stay where you are," Rick yelled down the stairs, trying to warn anyone that could potentially be at the bottom.

The two continued down until they reached the landing to which both their eyes widened and eyebrows rose. The basement was filled with drugs. Gigantic bags of powdered cocaine, marijuana, heroin, and pills. There were multiple grey folding tables with these bags against three of the walls forming a perimeter around the room, and a table in the middle with cash flung all around it – and lots of it.

"Jesus Christ!" Rick yelled as he lowered his gun along with Mike. "We hit the damn mother-load!"

Mike grew a grin of great realization on his cleanly shaved face. They had just busted a stash house. Mike walked over to the table with the money lying all around and began to eye it more closely.

"There's probably three to four thousand dollars here!" Mike exclaimed, ecstatic about their finding.

"Well let's call it in!" Rick replied as he pulled out his radio.

* * *

As the sun began to fall the house is swarmed now by many police officers and agents from the Drug Enforcement Administration. Yellow "do not cross" tape lines littered the outside perimeter of the middle class house as detectives wrote things down in their notebooks, police officers and DEA agents walked in and out of the front door, and neighbors and bystanders standing around the outside of the tape looking in.

Two DEA agents were standing with Rick and Mike now on the asphalt driveway. They wrote in their notebooks as Rick stood still with a smile, Mike looked over at his partner and didn't understand the smile. Mike reached into his pocket, pulling out a piece of "dubble bubble" gum and tossing it into his mouth without much thought. One of the gentlemen put away his notebook and the other soon followed doing the same.

"Alright gentlemen, now that we have a written report we can possibly get some answers as to what this house could be connected to. We appreciate your help gentlemen, great police work," One of the agents acclaimed to both officers as his partner nodded in agreement as the two stepped away.

Rick and Mike turned to each other now, Mike slumping down a bit with a somewhat usual grief to his face, and Rick looking as if he'd just won the lottery with a bit of pep in his step.

"Wooo!" Rick jumped into the air and clapped his hands together he then grabbed Mike's shoulders and shook him slightly, not sensing his visually obvious feelings. "Can you believe this? This is incredible! We're gonna be heroes man!"

As Rick removed his hands, Mike put up a fake little smile and nodded, then looked down at the ground as he was before. He continued to chew his gum as he looked at his shoes. Rick's eyebrows narrowed as he then lightly punched Mike's upper arm.

"You don't seem excited man! What's wrong? This is like the biggest bust in Philadelphia history," Rick said with excitement as he thought more and more about it. "This is what I've always dreamed of – taking down a big case like this – what's going on?"

"No, I'm excited; I'm just a bit tired is all. I've had a long day," Mike looked Rick in the eye with a slight squint, continually chewing his gum with his mouth closed.

"Come on man! You gotta come hit the bar with me and the guys, its celebration time…" Rick pondered for a second a few thoughts; he didn't understand why his best friend wasn't jazzed about this peak in their careers.

"I'm too tired, we'll have to celebrate some other time," angrily Mike blew a big bubble and let it pop against his lips. He sucked it back into his mouth quickly and then turned to walk away. Rick took a few steps and reached out and pulled on Mike's shoulder, twisting him back around.

"What's wrong man, this isn't like you…" Rick said a bit softer now inviting Mike to come to him with his problems with open arms.

"Look, I said I'm too tired! Damn Ricky I'll see ya tomorrow!" Mike lurched his shoulder back and off of the palm of Rams' inviting hand, took a few steps backward, and then turned and started off again.

Rick's forehead tightened downward as he pondered once more, watching the balding man fade into the distance – his partner was acting strange - something was wrong with Mike, he just couldn't put his finger on it.


End file.
